


for sunlight.

by emibau



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angry Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Best Friend Sapnap, Dream Is Bad At Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Canon, Song fic, dream hates physical touch, everyone say thank you hozier, extensive cussing, manberg-pogtopia war era, respectful wilbur, tags will be updated with the fic, wilbur cares a lot, wilbur is the sun, wilbur makes dream nervous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29653215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emibau/pseuds/emibau
Summary: wilbur reminds dream of the sunlight, and dream doesn’t like it. he hates it, he’d do anything to forget the very thought. however, the sun continues to shine everyday, and he just can’t seem to rid himself of wilbur.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	1. the icarus to your certainty

**Author's Note:**

> hello there! i want to start this out by saying the obvious: this is characters. i do not ship them outside of the dsmp universe. 
> 
> please do not mention this to any of the creators mentioned here. if they state they’re uncomfortable with it, i will take it down. 
> 
> on another note, this is based off of sunlight by hozier! it’s a really incredible song and makes me think of pogtopia wilbur smsm. the fic will read better if you listen to it while reading it as it’s what i listen to when i write this :) highly recommended!

he mistook the flames for sunlight. 

the colors blended as he watched the flames flicker against the sunset. eating at it like a beast, mouth unhinged and swallowing at the pink and orange, the sky dropping against the hills as the roaring crackle of open fire threatened his ears. he could almost see the drool dripping off of its jaws. 

the figure in front of the flashing light show was hunched over, shadow hiding the man’s identity from anyone who didn’t know better. anyone who hadn’t paid notice. 

but dream did. 

wilbur’s sunlight burned his colder, stone soul, scorching it with an intense heat the antarctic couldn’t chill. yet the orange beast wasn’t made of fear. the feeling that travelled down the small of his back, wrapping around his spine was something much further than fear. dream found himself interested, not scared. one could say curiosity killed the cat. he welcomed the feeling of ash between his fingers and staining his clothes. 

dream was blindsided. 

and so he ran. weaving through what was left of the trees as he turned corners, not caring about the harsh crunch of the sticks underneath his boots. he wasn’t scared of wilbur, or his fake sunlight. he was scared of how bright that fake sunlight seemed to be, and how it shone upon wilbur’s stitched face. the image was ink stained and blotted into his paper mind, seeping into his skin and taking over his entire body. it was also like a parasite, and dream needed it to go. 

his was heaving with his whole chest by the time he got back to his house, barely getting through the door before slumping, hand sliding lazily off the knob. the darkness seemed to spread through his shabby windows, moonlight shining on his misery as he caught his breath. his apathetic expression accurately described how he was feeling, every part of his body numb as he reached for the mask. yet, the scenery painted in his mind stopped his hand, hesitating as his fingertips brushed over the carved mask. 

what would his thoughts be if he took the mask off? for once, what would be the consequence? 

questions he couldn’t answer. questions he refused to answer. he couldn’t complain as his hand dropped onto the cold hardwood, knuckles clanging as he let out a sigh. he promptly ignored the shooting pain that immediately followed, deciding he didn’t care enough about it. 

instead, he fell asleep staring at a giant star, and the heat searing waves that radiated off of it. it’s smile mirrored in the same eyes he saw today, the same eyes he stared into as the wild fires swallowed up the sky. 

he wonders if he’ll have wax wings when he wakes up. 

• • • • •

the next time he meets wilbur, he has an axe to the man’s throat. the cold steel threatened to spill blood, dream tightening his face as wilbur swallowed nervously. the face on the brunette shouldn’t be smiling, but dream’s stomach unsettled as the small smile spread across his enemies face. he glared even harder. 

“what are you doing here? why shouldn’t i kill you?” dream spat. he couldn’t help the cold that chilled his bones, forcing the nausea back down as he stared into the very eyes he dreaded looking into. 

it felt like a window, one dream could live without seeing through. stained blood red those eyes were, taking apart his personality with their grimy fingers alone. he looked down, the mask hiding his sickly expression. 

“i just happen to be here. you wanna kill me so badly,” wilbur teased, pushing against the blade, only for dream to retract slightly. wilbur knew there were limits, and he wasn’t sure how he was gonna deal with those limits being pushed. it was like watching a switch flick as wilbur realized dream moved backwards an inch. he felt uncomfortable in his own skin, the hoodie sagging over his shoulders now itchy and annoying. 

“i do. so you should get the fuck out.” he prayed his words were sharper than swords, but every time he swang, he felt the blade get duller. wilbur pushed further, backing dream up instead as he realized the blonde was refusing to hold it any closer. 

“but i don’t want to? are you sure it’s really your land, dream?” he challenged, tilting his head as a disgusting smirk replaced the feigned innocence on wilbur’s face. dream swallowed before forcing the blade closer, gritting his teeth, a bucket of water just begging to spill over. 

“wilbur. leave. now.” dream felt his mouth ache with the tension between his jaws, his heart going a million miles more in the narrow road around his chest. it felt like a firecracker, ready to send him upwards at any point. 

he almost jumped when wilbur aggressively gripped the wood holding the glowing blade to his neck. 

the knot in his stomach tightened when wilbur pried it away, dream’s grip steeled yet unable to force back as wilbur just… pulled it away. he watched as his dignity left his soul, withering away. rest in peace dream.

“what is it about you?” wilbur whispered, eyes widening for a second with what seemed to be wonder. dream let out a “tsk”. what in the fuck is that supposed to mean? the man was closing in on him. 

wilbur didn’t seem to be backing away, either. he was getting closer, matching dream’s cautious steps. prying eyes burned holes into his mask, almost trying to see inside. he was an inch away, and dream was doing nothing to stop him. he was frozen in time, unable to move against the brunette. 

soon enough, wilbur’s fingers hooked the bottom of the mask, an eyebrow on the man’s face raised in half victory, and suddenly, dream couldn’t take it anymore. it was too far. every alarm, every hair, every instinct was telling him no, bitterly hissing it inside of his head, lashing out. no, no, no. that was the one thing he had over the other. 

he ripped wilbur’s hand away, yelling with no words as he turned and swang, heavy over his shoulder. the other had seen the recoil and had narrowly dodged, quickly dashing back a few steps as dream picked up the axe to swing again. he stepped forward, scattering dirt across the forest floor, heaving. 

“leave, wilbur, im tired of fucking asking. go back to your own little pretend fantasy.” he shook his head mockingly, almost yelling in frustration when his neck cramped the wrong way. wilbur was gone when he lifted his head, the forest air now empty and harsh against his rigid composure. 

he couldn’t hold back as the tsunami of pure feelings rolled over him, his body tensing as he let it out. the axe was leaving his hands before he could blink, hurling it at the tree in front of him. 

“fuck!” 

the sound echoed, along the splitting of wood and chipping, scaring all the birds around the area away. his hands tensed as he punched at the air, seemingly grasping for his own mental straws. he was focused on one thing: wilbur. 

no one heard him though, surely? he quite frankly hoped so, as he shortly yanked the axe from the tree. it would definitely be a huge problem if the brunette himself had been close enough to hear that. a shiver of ‘gross’ twirled down his spine as he thought of the possibilities. 

nope, of course he didn’t hear. dream wasn’t that loud, he was sure, or else someone probably would’ve come out and said something. there wasn’t a noise around him, a sore throbbing emit from his shoulder as he walked back, squeezing it slightly with a grimace. 

another problem avoided, at least. wilbur didn’t know, wilbur couldn’t feel the vine constricted beating heart in his cursed chest, and he couldn’t get those fingers underneath the stone mask. what was he going to do if wilbur heard? the thought of the possibility simply wouldn’t leave his mind. what did he even think of it? everything was so confusing. the brunette shouldn’t be able to just get under his skin like that, but he does it better than anyone else. dream wanted to drop his head into his hands and just shake. 

crunch. crunch. crunch. 

dream’s footsteps stopped, as hurried ones filled his ears, a familiar voice calling out as he missed the top of dream’s head completely. he sighed, pulling the mask to the side as he looked up and whistled, waving his hand slightly. annoyed, but still beckoning to the other man. apparently someone had heard him. very bad news. he couldn’t stop his stomach from dropping as his friend walked up, eyebrows sewn together in concern. 

“dream?” 

“hey, sapnap.”


	2. strap a wing to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream decides he has to do something about the ram dictator, and writes a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a little weaker, but i promise the next chapters are going to be a little more interesting :)
> 
> i am also making a playlist to listen to that reminds me of them. i’ll link it whenever it’s done!!

two hours into the day and dream was already in a foul mood. mornings weren’t his forte, and the sun had been permanently ruined, it’s usually smiling rays now grimacing down at the green clad man. he wished it would rain, and wash out the stains of wilbur’s smile in the carpet of his chest. maybe it was a little bit melodramatic, but dream needed a lot more than just his morning coffee to be able to survive the day. 

sapnap had joined him for a walk, of his own decree on the fact that he was “bored out of his mind”. dream didn’t mind much, as sapnap’s presence was welcomed anytime, but he warned the other that he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. sapnap had just laughed it off and showed up anyway. he wasn’t sure  _ why _ , but his best friend seemed to be glued to him lately. the brunette was immensely concerned for his health, it seemed. heartwarming, but the notion was pointless; dream was fine. 

in fact, he was supposed to be spending the passing day with george, but the former king was asleep, like usual. george couldn’t care less about what went on in the world, abandoning his duties as soon as it bored him. it was beyond annoying how much his british friend slept. he wasn’t even sure george knew how much his absence really affected dream’s life. they wouldn’t have to deal with this manburg bullshit if the bastard had just showed up to the election, but here they were! 

regardless, there wasn’t time to worry about how the scenery around him would morph based on his friend’s actions. 

“dude, you should’ve seen the look on your face. the mask was kinda in the way, but i could just tell you were fucking angry.” sapnap giggled, holding his arm over his stomach as he pointed at dream with the same shit-eating grin he wore on the daily. dream rolled his eyes, emitting a long huff of annoyance in return. he was right, the emotions surging through his veins the day prior were impossible to hold back, but he would only admit that to sap. 

“i was. you showed up out of nowhere,” dream pointed back, half smiling as they came to a stop.

the joking was a nice touch, he admitted to himself, a contrast against the shadows around him. it swallowed him whole sometimes. sapnap’s giggle was faded with the next breath, however, as his face steeled and he turned to dream. 

“yeah… now that i think about, you really were. what even happened?” sapnap questioned innocently, raising an eyebrow. of course, sap didn’t mean any harm, but dream’s stomach dropped, tying into complex knots as he met his friend’s eyes. that was surely a question… what was he supposed to say to that? ‘oh yeah, you know, encountered our enemy in the forest and almost revealed my face to him! such a funny memory!’ 

_ no,  _ that was indeed not what he was supposed to say. he swallowed hard, frantically trying to piece the words together in his brain as he buffered. he knew sapnap could see it, could see the loading screen. it was written right on his forehead in bolded letters. 

“nothing, really. manburg has just been stressing me out lately, with the talk of expanding. that’s all.” he stated, shrugging it off, carefully choosing his words. technically, he wasn’t wrong. schlatt’s advances did have him a little unsettled, and the certain chestnut haired man centered around the birth of the country just happened to be in the same forest at the same time. sapnap just didn’t need to know he had recently encountered the former president. no one did. 

his face tightened with the realization that he was once again thinking about wilbur, and the urge to send his axe whirling through the air filled his veins. lately, the man seemed to plague his mind. he would be lying if he said he didn’t force his hands a little further into his pockets, flexing his fingers uncomfortably. he tried not to imagine how the handle of it felt in his palms. 

“well, if he starts to bother you too much about it, you could always just confront him. it is your domain. plus, if you just keep tucking it all away, it’s just gonna pile up, dream.” sapnap stated, blinking matter of factly. dream’s uncomfortableness deepened considerably, buzzing at the vagueness of sapnap’s advice. it was almost too fitting to both of the situations whirling inside his head. he wanted to shake like there were ants in his shoes, having to look away in order not to physically reject the words his friend said. 

it was good advice, but it was too good. maybe sapnap knew too much. did he see wilbur leave? oh god, he must’ve. it fit too perfectly. yet, there was still that small chance he didn’t. he forced himself to regain composure, stiff, trying to maintain a neutral face. it was like trying to make water keep a shape like stone. he had to believe sapnap didn’t know, holding onto the thought like it was his lifeline; desperately clutching. 

“i’ll be fine, sapnap. don’t worry about it, i have my own ways of dealing with things,” dream forced a fake laugh, the words bitter in his mouth. 

“oh yeah? like screaming fuck in the middle of a forest?” sapnap teased, poking fun at the already unsettled dream. it had the opposite effect, striking a nerve that just twisted and popped. he grit his teeth, embarrassment washing over him. 

“sapnap, just stop.” he gritted his teeth, rolling his shoulders back slightly. he was beginning to wish more and more that sapnap had just never shown up that day. he wouldn’t be here, contemplating how he felt about other people. 

“i just don’t think that’s healthy man! seriously,” sapnap paused, “are you really sure you’re okay?” he repeated himself, and dream felt his internal rubber band snap, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at sapnap. his actions were animated as he seemed to sink into himself, bursting forward with a sudden wave of emotion. 

“im fucking fine! can’t you just leave it alone? do you always have to know everything?” dream yelled, waving his hands around wildly as he talked, each word a bullet aimed for his best friend. the brunette’s face darkened, his entire posture switching as the energy in the air shifted. dream didn’t want to admit that wilbur was under his skin, and sapnap was making it difficult. he just wanted to spend a second of the day not thinking about his enemy, about every little detail. just some peace and quiet, for once. when he looked at his hands, he realized his fingernails were red with the hint of blood, crescents dug into the shape of his palm. 

“fine, dream. you win. im sorry,” sapnap sounded quietly but firm, eyes set as he stared at dream. he had always hated how sapnap could see right through him, and he found himself wishing he were stone rather than glass more than ever. without a thought, he pulled the cracked mask over his face, concealing his thoughts. a façade for him to hide behind. brave, strong, smart. the dream people feared was within this mask. the heartbeat in his chest could be ignored because no one could see. 

“i think i need to go.” 

  
• • • •   
  


the mask felt like it had burned into his face. it laid simply over his eyes and nose, yet he felt like his skin would follow if he tried to take it off. it was such a simple thing, yet it weighed more than an elephant. 

dream hadn’t bothered to touch it, even as he had dragged himself home, confused, angry, and exhausted. it’s not like he wanted to fight with sapnap, or like he wanted to see the gleam in wilbur’s eyes. no, he wanted to sleep. to forget, maybe. just something else, he’d beg. 

he briefly considered the possibility of praying. there was all kinds of religions, surely there was a god somewhere out there willing to lay their godly anger upon him. didn’t those guys used to demand worship or something? whatever. 

a groan escaped him as he suddenly pushed the mask up and off, sinking further into the sheets of his bed. beds were supposed to be comfortable, but he just couldn’t get settled. the pillow felt flat, and his mattress felt stiff, despite having no problem with that previously. it always felt a little too empty, the sheets on one side perfect while his side was wrinkled. maybe he should get a cat or something. 

there was just so much time on his hands, and yet nowhere near enough. he raced his thoughts, rattling like marbles he couldn’t seem to get out. schlatt. wilbur. sapnap. all of them… he needed to do something. he couldn’t do it publically, but he needed to retaliate against the ram who had somehow taken control of a faction. it was getting out of control, especially if his best friend had to say something about it as well. 

a lightbulb lit up as he remembered an old book and quill he had left around somewhere, and he wasted no time moving from his bed to find it. each chest was disorganized, his frustration growing as he rustled through items, until the tips of his fingers finally brushed the leather bound book full of blank pages. attached to it was a pen. 

he yanked it out of the chest, slamming the stupid storage unit shut, noting later that he’d definitely have to reorganize all of them. with a grimace, he realized quite a bit of the chest was now on the floor, messy and strewn about. he stepped over the items, going to sit back on his bed. 

the only thing he was sure about is that this letter was going to wilbur. he’d get it to the brunette somehow, maybe through tommy. tommy wasn’t his favorite person to interact with, for sure, but the kid was interesting. plus, he knew the blonde cared for wilbur, and would deliver the note no matter what. he was a reliable messenger. 

pen tip to page, he began writing. 

_ hello wilbur.  _

_ the last time we spoke, we were on opposite sides, to put it simply. however, i cannot let schlatt damage this place any longer. he wants violence, and power. i want otherwise.  _

_ you are the only other person who can help me. i must do this quietly, but i know you’re planning something. please respond if i can do anything to aid you. i know l’manburg was important to you.  _

_ stay safe.  _

  * _dream. :)_




	3. death trap clad happily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream receives a note and meets up with a certain former president.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one isn’t as beta read! 
> 
> if you like it, leave a comment, it usually makes my day and i love responding to them!

* * *

the mask felt like it had burned into his face. it laid simply over his eyes and nose, yet he felt like his skin would follow if he tried to take it off. it was such a simple thing, yet it weighed more than an elephant. 

dream hadn’t bothered to touch it, even as he had dragged himself home, confused, angry, and exhausted. it’s not like he wanted to fight with sapnap, or like he wanted to see the gleam in wilbur’s eyes. no, he wanted to sleep. to forget, maybe. just something else, he’d beg. 

he briefly considered the possibility of praying. there was all kinds of religions, surely there was a god somewhere out there willing to lay their godly anger upon him. didn’t those guys used to demand worship or something? whatever. 

a groan escaped him as he suddenly pushed the mask up and off, sinking further into the sheets of his bed. beds were supposed to be comfortable, but he just couldn’t get settled. the pillow felt flat, and his mattress felt stiff, despite having no problem with that previously. it always felt a little too empty, the sheets on one side perfect while his side was wrinkled. maybe he should get a cat or something. 

there was just so much time on his hands, and yet nowhere near enough. he raced his thoughts, rattling like marbles he couldn’t seem to get out. schlatt. wilbur. sapnap. all of them… he needed to do something. he couldn’t do it publically, but he needed to retaliate against the ram who had somehow taken control of a faction. it was getting out of control, especially if his best friend had to say something about it as well. 

a lightbulb lit up as he remembered an old book and quill he had left around somewhere, and he wasted no time moving from his bed to find it. each chest was disorganized, his frustration growing as he rustled through items, until the tips of his fingers finally brushed the leather bound book full of blank pages. attached to it was a pen. 

he yanked it out of the chest, slamming the stupid storage unit shut, noting later that he’d definitely have to reorganize all of them. with a grimace, he realized quite a bit of the chest was now on the floor, messy and strewn about. he stepped over the items, going to sit back on his bed. 

the only thing he was sure about is that this letter was going to wilbur. he’d get it to the brunette somehow, maybe through tommy. tommy wasn’t his favorite person to interact with, for sure, but the kid was interesting. plus, he knew the blonde cared for wilbur, and would deliver the note no matter what. he was a reliable messenger. 

pen tip to page, he began writing. 

_hello wilbur._

_the last time we spoke, we were on opposite sides, to put it simply. however, i cannot let schlatt damage this place any longer. he wants violence, and power. i want otherwise._

_you are the only other person who can help me. i must do this quietly, but i know you’re planning something. please respond if i can do anything to aid you. i know l’manburg was important to you._

_stay safe._

  * _dream. :)_



  
• • •  
  


the sun plagued him yet again. as dream’s eyes fluttered open, he was greeted to the blinding light shining through his windows, shining almost directly into his eyes. what a fucking nightmare way to wake up. he screwed his eyes closer shut, sighing and rubbing his fingers in the corner of his eyes. 

when he opened them yet again, nothing seemed off, but the previously shining sun lit up the piece of parchment currently laying on his floor. parchment? a note? had wilbur finally replied to him? he was quick to throw the blankets aside and scramble to his feet, nearly tripping as he walked towards the door. pausing to let out a yawn, he reached for the page. 

his face was stern as he noted the incredibly fancy writing. 

_dear dream,_

_i appreciate that you reached out. the enemy of my enemy is a friend. schlatt is an idiot, and if it’s the last thing i do, i will take him down. however, im not sure how soon that could be. id like to meet, today. i will be waiting in the clearing near your house, i’m sure you know which one. i'm looking forward to our meeting. hopefully it’s not like our last._

_best regards, wilbur soot._

right now? dream was indeed aware of what clearing wilbur was talking about, but he just woke up. honestly, what is up with the former president and the morning? dream hated mornings, but wilbur seemed to embrace them. his tongue clicked as he folded the note and tucked it into his palm, lazily dragging himself to where all of his clothes and gear typically was. 

another yawn threatened to break the veil, escaping despite dream’s efforts to keep it back. he had trouble sleeping, and often found himself awake throughout the night, thinking offhandedly about things. his internal monologue was hard to ignore, even as he mindlessly pulled a plain black crew neck over his head. 

eyeing his netherite, he weighed the pros and cons. netherite was heavy, but if wilbur pulled anything tricky, it would be handy… yet, as he looked out the window, he decided he couldn’t be fucked. if the brunette really wanted to kill him, he probably would’ve done it during their first encounter. even thinking about it made dream twitch uncomfortably, shaking it off. sweatpants and a tee for today, it seemed. wilbur wasn’t wrong when he said that he hoped it wasn’t like the last time, but dream still wanted to shake the man vigorously at the comment. he kept his usual sword belt, though, tying it in the back and tucking the deadly blade in the sheath, letting it hang by his leg. 

autopilot guided him towards a pair of slippers, since the clearing wasn’t too far away and he had levelled out the ground there pretty nicely. that surely had to be why wilbur chose that spot; dream thought it was predictable. still, his pace picked up, figuring he shouldn’t make wilbur wait much longer. 

the last thing he grabbed was the mask, pulling it over his face and taking a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror. he looked a mess, for sure, and the odd contrast between his casual clothing and the mask was almost funny. he looked less like a warrior and more like a kid on halloween. the only thing separating the two was the blade that had seen more death and destruction than any other weapon on the server. 

sadness poured into his gut as the thought registered. things didn’t have to be this way, but there was no other way to get his point across. no one listened to him. yet, for some reason, his words rang throughout the world when he pulled the morbid blade out, splattering it in the pain of other people. his other friends. his former friends. 

he turned and headed for the door, huffing at the layer of angst that settled over his being. meeting wilbur was already a task, and adding that thought to the mix was just gonna be gunpowder and a match. if he was going to be teaming up with the very man he originally sought to bring down, he had to play nice. 

pine needles crunched underneath his slippers, poking at the bottom of his feet. okay, so maybe leaving the house in his pajamas wasn’t a great idea, but the walk wasn’t too far. the clearing wilbur spoke of was out to the right of his house, and it happened to be one he created himself. he had chopped down those trees to make his own house, and it just happened to be in a circle. he wasn’t gonna complain. 

the empty circle came into view, and the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen creeped up again. he stepped into the radiant area, settling his hand on his waist, close to his sword hilt just in case. it was always just in case. he wasn’t so sure how valid it was, though, as the brown coated back of the very man he was meeting greeted him. 

wilbur didn’t turn around immediately, sitting on a rock placed near the middle, seemingly hunched over. dream almost didn’t want to disturb his peace, just standing there for a second as he shone. wilbur was bright, and dream was sure he was mistaking flame for sunlight yet again. this time, the flames weren’t threatening to swallow him up. 

dream cleared his throat to get the brunette’s attention. 

whatever he was expecting, it was not to the have the air rush out of his lungs. the rays of the burning star above lit up wilbur’s face as the man turned around, and dream couldn’t breathe. wilbur was glowing, quite literally, an outline of white against the dark, contrasting wood behind him. fuck, this was not good. no bueno, no bueno. shit. 

he’s so pretty. 

dream forced the sudden thought down, frantically shoving it into the back crevice of his mind, ignoring that it happened at all. wilbur wasn’t pretty. he was just another guy, someone he was supposed to currently be talking to, except he was staring instead. like a fool. he swallows hard, his jaw tightened as he talks, the words like thorns in his mouth. 

“you wanted to meet,” he states, unable to form any other words. he watches as the sarcasm hits the tip of wilbur’s tongue, the brunette laughing quietly as dream’s blood boils. really, it was unfair how calm wilbur was in this situation. dream felt itchy. wilbur walks a little closer, and dream almost takes a step back. 

“well, that’s kind of what it said in the note, yeah?” wilbur quips, amusement yet again written across his face. “but anyways, i wrote back because things have gotten worse. schlatt is planning a festival to celebrate _my_ l’manburg.” wilbur brings an offended hand to his chest, huffing with annoyance, eyes darting around the clearing as if someone could hear them. dream could assure him there definitely wasn’t. these woods were empty. 

“schlatt is an idiot. he’s no you,” he let out a laugh before actually processing, and he soon realized he slipped up too late, wilbur’s eyebrow shooting up in question. he dug his fingers into the middle of his palms, but he really didn’t feel much. the burn scars scattered across his hands made it a little hard for the nerves to register what was happening, but his heart knew exactly what emotion that slip up exploded; pure, and raw panic. the nauseous feeling was back. 

there was a pause. wilbur just tilted his head, humming to himself in question. he turned away from dream, pacing back and forth slowly. dream felt his face drain of color, readying himself to book it at any moment, but before he could try, wilbur was speaking again. 

“what do you think of me, dream?” 

curious but burning eyes seemed to stare deeply into the core of dream’s soul as he buffered. blank, for once in his life. “uhhh,” he stalled, until a symbol popped into his head, and he blurted the first thing that came to mind: “the sun.” 

moments after he blurted it, he figured he had dug himself a hole deeper than he could fill. wilbur seemed dumbfounded, standing there in limbo as the two of them awkwardly talked. what was this conversation at this point? this wasn’t political anymore, there was something much further than political between them, and he wanted to swing his sword and sever the thread. the hilt was right there, he totally could, but instead, he just stood there. like a fool! 

“it’s just because uh, it’s day time,” he tried to state matter-of-factly, sputtering as the words frantically popped into the air. “the sunlight was on you, or whatever. that’s why,” he clarified, coughing into his fist as his arm curled under for support. the lie was more than bad, he knew. it was just plain and simple, but wilbur didn’t reply. he tilted his head further, eyes flickering between dream’s fist and mask. 

“sunlight? that’s quite a weird thought, dream-”

“forget that, what are we gonna do about schlatt?” dream enforced, teeth grinding as he let it out. wilbur yet again looked down, and then seemed to finally switch roads back to schlatt. dream would’ve let out a sigh of relief if this was paradise, but it wasn’t; he kept his posture sturdy. something seemed to click in wilbur’s mind, an almost manic grin spreading itself across his features.

“why don’t we just blow it up? killing schlatt isn’t going to do anything, quackity would just take over. so why not take the _whole country?_ ” wilbur spun around, hands moving as if something really did fall into place. dream wasn’t a stranger to explosives, and it was technically wilbur’s problem. he didn’t care how schlatt went down, as long as the long-time alcoholic was out of power. it wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“i can supply the tnt. as long as schlatt is gone, i don’t care what you do with it.” dream agrees, dropping his fists to tuck them into his pockets. still, he couldn’t help but squirm over wilbur’s gaze, unable to assess what was going on behind the man’s eyes. all of his thoughts were guarded, and dream really wished he could do the same without his mask. he envied wilbur for that. 

the note popped back into his head. there wasn’t anything overly fond about it, was there? no, there wasn’t. he told wilbur to be safe, but that was it, right? he wanted everyone to be safe. no, that was a lie as well, he definitely didn’t want _everyone_ safe. he tried to move on from it. the brunette broke the silence. 

“you sure have some pretty interesting opinions on me, dream.” wilbur adds, leaning back onto the rock, arms crossed with a shit grin. dream scoffed, shifting uncomfortably and willing himself not to punt the man in front of him. 

the words fell between them, dream extending his hand towards wilbur politely to signify the interaction was over. if he stayed any longer, he might actually explode, and there was enough talk about tnt between them already. a conclusion had been made, and now it was time for him to leave, to rid his skin of the crawling feeling inside. 

wilbur seemed to recognize this, dipping his head as he took dream’s hand. dream felt like lava was being poured between his shoulders, the touch zapping him as if he were a bug. he felt himself tug his hand back a little too quickly, and wilbur seemed to respond with a squeeze. he finally registered something as _pain,_ a twinge shooting through his palm as he ripped his hand away. 

okay, so that one hurt physically. he turned his roughed up hands and noticed only then the red streaks that had dried down his arm, and the deep fingernail marks resting in the middle. he had dug his fingers in so hard, and the nerve damage made it impossible to notice until now. was that what wilbur was looking at? god, he really could not conceal anything, could he? his mask was the only thing there keeping him guarded. 

as he began to step away, wanting nothing more than to get out, a few more words left wilbur’s mouth. 

“be safe, dream.” 

“...you too.”   
  


a few moments pass after his feet hit the ground running. 

his knees are threatening to collapse, ringing every time he stomped, begging for release, until they finally did. 

he crumpled violently, dropping to his hands and knees and slamming his fist into the dirt. the soil recoiled around his hand, dirtying his pants and palms, and he can’t get the mask off  _ any faster. _ it nearly breaks as it thumps onto the ground, a shedding of both skins as he tried to grab straws of emotional stability. it was disappointing, the flames licking at his soul, branding his skin with every word wilbur seemed to say. they carried weight, scarring him forever. 

his mind mumbled, and his hands tingled with pain. without thinking about it, he frantically wiped his hands on his t-shirt, smearing wet soil on the black fabric without a care. he needed to get his hands cleaned, why did they burn so much? why were they burning? he begged it to stop, wiping harder as the burning got worse. 

nothing was working, but he needed to go before wilbur took the wrong step. 

suddenly, the burning felt icy, and flight kicked in. he grabbed the mask, tied it back around his head, and got back up in a wobbly fashion. he had finally threaded the string through the needle, and now he  _ needed to get out of there. now.  _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Absence of Flames](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665647) by [ItsYourLocalBi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsYourLocalBi/pseuds/ItsYourLocalBi)




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